HAP  HAZARD 
QUOTATIONS 

COLLECTED  DURING 
AN  IDLE 

SUMMER  MONTH 
BY  L.  E.  B. 


HAP  HAZARD  QUOTATIONS 

COLLECTED  DURING  AN  IDLE 
SUMMER   MONTH 


h 

L.   E.   B. 


D.   P.   ELDER  AND    MORGAN   SHEPARD 
SAN  FRANCISCO 

I9OO 


COPYRIGHT,  SEPT.,  1900 

h 

L.  E.  BOGGS 


All  rights  reserved 


Press  of  The  Stanley-Taylor  Company 
San  Francisco 


HAP    HAZARD    QUOTATIONS 

WHEN  all  that  is  worldly  burns  to  dross  around 
us,  books  only  retain  their  steady  value.   When 
friends  grow  cold,  and  the  conversation  of  in- 
timates  languishes  into  vapid   civility  and  common- 
place, these  only  continue  the  unaltered  countenance 
of  better  days,  and  cheer  us  with  that  true  friendship 
which  never  deceived  hope  or  deserted  sorrow. 

There  is  no  time  in  life  when  books  do  not  influ- 
ence a  man. 

To  divert  at  any  time  a  troublesome  fancy  run  to 
thy  books ;  they  always  receive  thee  with  the  same 
kindness. 

You  must  write  a  book  or  two  to  find  out  how 
much  and  how  little  you  know  and  have  to  say. 

Men  of  one  idea  are  always  extremists,  and  ex- 
tremists are  always  nuisances. 

One  does  not  care  to  talk  of  the  traitor  he  once 
called  friend. 


WHEN  a  young  man  can  enjoy  an  hour's  quiet 
talk  with  a  woman  neither  young,  beautiful, 
nor  fascinating  in  any  way,  there's  sure  to  be 
something  good  and  genuine  in  him. 

Politeness  appears  to  have  been  invented  to  enable 
people  who  would  naturally  fall  out,  to  live  together 
in  peace. 

We  have  that  sort  of  courtesy  about  us,  we  would 
not  flatly  call  a  fool,  a  fool. 

Affections  can  withstand  very  severe  storms,  but 
not  a  long  polar  frost  of  downright  indifference. 

The  best  lessons  a  man  ever  has  are  his  mistakes. 

We  should  judge  men  by  their  treatment  of  others, 
rather  than  by  their  treatment  of  us. 

Men  marry  the  very  last  women,  and  women  the 
very  last  men,  whom  their  friends  would  think  it  pos- 
sible they  would  care  about. 

Passionate  love  in  a  man  is  not  to  be  doubted  for  a 
time.  But  constancy  under  difficulties  —  ah!  that's 
another  thing. 

Pardon  does  not  heal  the  wound. 


The  wisdom  which,  if  a  man  is  ever  to  be  wise, 
comes  to  him  after  he  has  crossed  the  line  of  thirty 
years. 

A  man  is  clever  when  he  marries  for  money  and  no 
one  finds  it  out 

You  will  not  anger  a  man  so  much  by  showing 
him  that  you  hate  him,  as  by  expressing  a  contempt 
for  him. 

Never  strike  one  unnecessary  blow. 

Love  —  all  sorts  of  love  —  can  excuse  anything 
but  meanness.  Meanness  kills  love,  cripples  natural 
affection,  and  forfeits  friendship.  Without  esteem  true 
love  or  friendship  cannot  exist. 

There  are  no  two  persons  who  can  walk  together  in 
this  world  without  having  much  to  bear  with  each 
other,  so  full  are  we  of  imperfections. 

IT  IS  nice  to  have  an  adoring  creature  always  keep- 
ing watch    over  one's   incomings    and    outgoings, 
and  believing  one  to  be  —  what  he  knows  he  is  not 
—  a  man  of  mighty  intellect  and  Herculean  strength; 
in   short,  the  authority   of  the  world.     Single  people 
certainly  have  more  peace  and  quietness,  but  now  and 


then  they  find  themselves  rather  too  severely  left  alone. 
Married  people  rejoice  in  the  joys  of  companionship 
—  but  there  may  be  too  much  of  a  good  thing  —  oh, 
so  much,  too  much  of  it.  On  the  whole,  there  are 
those  who  have  been  married  who  would  have  been 
much  happier  had  they  remained  single,  and  there  are 
those  who  would  have  been  more  blessed  had  they 
been  married — lottery. 

It  is  a  deep  mystery  —  the  way  the  heart  of  a  man 
turns  to  one  woman  out  of  all  the  rest  he  has  seen  in 
the  world. 

Beware  of  hating  men  for  their  opinions;  or  of 
adopting  their  doctrines  because  you  love  and  venerate 
their  virtues. 

Thou  can'st  not  shape  another's  mind  to  suit  thine 
own  body ;  think  not,  then,  to  be  furnishing  his  brains 
with  thy  special  notions. 

Ambition  often  plays  the  wrestler's  trick  of  raising 
a  man  up  merely  to  fling  him  down  again. 

A  man's  own  heart  must  be  ever  given  to  gain  that 
of  another. 

We  can  never  quite  understand  why  another  dis- 
likes what  we  like. 


There  is  no  character   more    contemptible    than   a 
man  —  or  woman  —  that  is  a  fortune-hunter. 

It  is  wonderful  how  readily  people  believe  anything 
they  would  like  to  be  true. 

fT"VHERE  are  some  who  know  us  only  as  our  ideal 
JL  selves,  to  whom  we  are  always  perfect,  the  real- 
ization of  their  dreams  so  far  as  we  go  and  for 
what  we  are  worth  —  people  who  round  us  off,  so  to 
speak,  and  absolutely  refuse  to  look  at  either  excres- 
cence or  flaw,  to  recognize  the  fault  too  much  or  the 
grace  too  little.  And  perhaps  we  are  always  at  our 
best  with  them ;  for  it  is  quite  true  that  certain 
friends  have  the  power  of  bringing  out  all  that  is  good 
and  beautiful  in  us,  and  certain  others  all  that  is  ugly 
and  bad;  just  as  some  notes  make  harmonies  and 
others  discords,  though  it  is  the  same  instrument  that 
gives  both,  only  struck  differently.  No  one  can 
account  for  it,  how  the  presence  of  certain  people 
seems  to  set  our  teeth  on  edge,  to  make  us  captious, 
imperious,  angry,  contradictory,  whatever  may  be  the 
besetting  sin  of  our  temperament.  This  person  is  to 
our  worst  self  what  the  red  rag  is  to  the  bull,  and 
rouses  into  activity  every  latent  fault;  neither  side  to 
blame,  only  by  this  unlucky  magnetic  discord,  all  that 


is  worst  in  us  comes  to  the  front.     And  sometimes, 
Heaven  help  us!  we  marry  this  person. 

To  be  in  love,  and  at  the  same  time  act  wisely,  is 
scarcely  within  the  power  of  a  god. 

Men  often  like  the  romance  and  excitement  of  a 
secret  courtship,  women,  never,  unless  there  is  some- 
thing in  them  not  quite  right,  not  entirely  womanly. 

HE  THAT  considers  how  little  he  dwells  upon 
the  condition  of  others  will  learn  how  little  the 
attention  of  others  is  attracted  by  himself.    The 
utmost  which  he  can  reasonably  hope  or  fear  is  to  fill 
a  vacant  hour  with  prattle  and  be  forgotten. 

Such  is  the  contrast  to  be  found  in  human  character, 
in  some  a  benevolence  that  consoles  and  bestows  a 
relief;  in  others  a  destructive  persecution  of  their 
fellow  men. 

Write  your  name  with  kindness,  love  and  mercy 
on  the  hearts  of  the  people  you  come  in  contact  with 
year  by  year,  and  you  will  never  be  forgotten. 

If  there  is  any  person  for  whom  you  fdel  a  dislike, 
that  is  the  person  of  whom  you  ought  seldom  to  think 
and  never  to  speak. 


Quotation* 


Sooner  or  later  we  pardon  our  friends  the  injuries 
we  have  done  them. 

Half  the  ills  we  hoard  in  our  hearts  are  ills  because 
we  hoard  them. 

He  was  clad  in  an  armor  of  indifference  through 
which  nothing  could  penetrate.  Many  arrows  were 
cast  upon  him,  but  they  glanced  from  off —  his  back  — 
he  never  faced  them. 

Not  always  actions  show  the  man :  we  find 
Who  does  a  kindness  is  not  therefore  kind, 
Perhaps  prosperity  becalmed  his  breast, 
Perhaps  the  wind  just  shifted  from  the  East ; 
Not  therefore  humble,  he  who  seeks  retreat, 
Pride  guides  his  steps,  and  bids  him  shun  the 

great : 

Who  combats  bravely,  is  not  therefore  brave, 
He  dreads  a  death-bed  like  the  meanest  slave : 
Who  reasons  wisely,  is  not  therefore  wise, 
His  pride  in  reasoning,  not  in  acting,  lies. 

Disproportioned  friendships  ever  terminate  in  failure. 

It  is  a  solemn  fact  in  this  world  that  whenever  a  girl 
says  she  will  never,  never  do  a  thing,  she  is  pretty 
sure  to  go  and  do  it  the  first  chance  she  gets. 


IO 


All  women  marry  gods,  but  sadly  consent  afterward 
to  live  with  men. 

Oh,  woman,  I  love  you  for  what  you  are  not! 

What  woman  should  be?  Sir,  consult  the  taste  of 
marriageable  men. 

A  woman's  advice  is  no  great  thing,  but  he's  a  fool 
that  doesn't  take  it. 

SHE  was  a  metallic  woman,  a  woman  whose  appear- 
ance builds   you  up.     She  could   reflect  all   the 
shine  in  the  world;  she  could  be  rained  on  by  all 
the  rain  in  the  world;    remaining  inside  of  her  armor 
unmoved  by  either.     I  never  see  such  an  one  without 
crying :    u  Thanks,  you  can't  be  easily  hurt.     Sorrow 
and  reverses  drown  you  not.     Love  will  not  kill  you. 
You  are  self-sufficient.     A  happy  woman  —  but  I  don't 
want  to  be  you  !  " 

From  what  bitter  anguish  of  heart  does  a  woman's 
seeming  ill-humor  sometimes  spring  ? 

I  have  seen  fifty-year-old  faces  on  which  the  impress 
of  mind  and  heart  made  a  light  like  the  glow  of  an 
autumn  sunset,  not  to  be  quenched;  even  a  morning 
light  over  features  that  could  not  look  old. 


The  heart  that  is  truly  happy  never  grows  old. 

Some  people  are  very  correct ;  you  can  never  dis- 
cover any  fault  in  them,  but  they  don't  amount  to 
much. 

She  would  never  go  out  of  her  way  for  you,  but  oh, 
so  delightful,  when  she  met  you ! 

She  provides  employment  and  gives  to  those  of 
whom  she  personally  knows  nothing  and  avoided 
always,  notoriety. 

She  would  do  nothing  except  for  public  praise. 

"  Why  did  you  pass  yesterday  without  looking  at 
me?"  inquired  a  beautiful  woman  of  Talleyrand. 
"Because,  madam/'  replied  the  great  diplomatist,  "if 
I  had  looked,  I  could  not  have  passed." 

A  wife  older  than  her  husband  is  always  at  a  dis- 
advantage. 

Of  all  disagreeable  things  in  this  world,  the  most 
disagreeable  is  not  to  have  your  own  way. 

It  is  astonishing,  when  we  have  conceived  a  preju- 
dice, how  rapidly  it  grows,  and  how  plentifully  it  finds 
nutriment. 


12 


I  can  picture  her  treading  her  lonely  way 
Thro'  a  land  whence  summer  has  flown, 

Bearing  life's  crosses  from  day  to  day, 
And  dying  at  last  alone ; 

With  never  a  friend  or  a  kindred  face 

To  follow  her  dust  to  its  resting-place. 

She  is  not  fair  to  outward  view, 

As  many  maidens  be; 
Her  loveliness  I  never  knew 

Until  she  smiled  on  me : 
O,  then  I  saw  her  eye  was  bright, 
A  well  of  joy,  a  spring  of  light. 

What  you  are  prepared  for  rarely  happens.  The 
precise  thing  you  had  expected  comes  not  once  in  a 
thousand  times.  It  is  always  the  unexpected  that 
happens. 

EVERY  heart    has  its    secret   sorrows,  which    the 
world  knows  not ;  and  oftentimes  we  call  a  man 
cold  when   he    is   only  sad.     If  we  throw  too 
much  on  our  friends  —  make  too  many  demands   on 
their  sympathy,  their  patience,  their  good  nature,  their 
allowance  —  we  shall  end  in  using  up  the  friendship. 
Nothing  will  be  left — not  a  crumb. 

Disappoint  not  thy  friends. 


Quotations  13 


The  extreme  pleasure  we  take  in  talking  of  our- 
selves should  make  us  fear  that  we  give  very  little  to 
those  who  listen  to  us. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  think  your  interlocutor  is  listen- 
ing to  what  you  say.  He  is  thinking  of  what  he  is 
going  to  say. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  your  friend  is  con- 
sumedly  interested  in  your  eloquent  description  of 
your  liver  troubles.  On  the  contrary,  he  is  excessively 
anxious  to  tell  you  of  his  catarrh. 

To  business  that  we  love  we  rise  betime, 
And  go  to  it  with  delight. 

All  things  come  round  to  him  who  will  but  wait  — 
but  oh,  how  long  one  has  to  wait ! 

Deal  in  a  manly  way  with  the  trials  of  the  present, 
and  the  future  will  not  fail  to  be  generous  to  you. 

God  never  forsook  one  who  was  making  an  honest 
effort,  and  He  is  not  going  to  begin  on  you.  Strug- 
gle on,  and  all  shall  be  well. 

No  man  is  more  cheated  than  the  selfish  man,  and 
selfishness  at  the  expense  of  other's  happiness  is  — 
demonism. 


4}uof<Jtfion0 


If  you  desire  to  enjoy  life,  avoid  unpunctual  per- 
sons. They  impede  business  and  poison  pleasure. 
Make  it  your  own  rule  not  only  to  be  punctual,  but  a 
little  beforehand. 

AN  EXACTING  temper  is  one  against  which  to 
guard  both  one's  own  heart  and  the  nature  of 
those  who  are  under  our  control  and  influence. 
To  give  and  to  allow,  to  suffer  and  to  bear,  are  the 
graces  more  to  the  purpose  of  a  noble  life  than  cold, 
exacting  selfishness,  which  must  have,  let  who  will  go 
without ;  which  will  not  yield,  let  who  will  break.     It 
is  a  disastrous  quality  wherewith  to  go   through  the 
world,  for  it  receives  as  much  pain  as  it  inflicts,  and 
creates  the  discomfort  it  deprecates. 

Injustice  is  very  hard  to  bear.  Yet  we  must  all 
learn  to  expect  it,  to  suffer  it  as  calmly  as  we  can. 

F  I  \HE    acknowledgment  of  a  fault  is  often  more 
JL     effectual  than  any  deed  of  atonement ;  confession 
is    speedily  followed    by    forgiveness.     Words, 
which  are  as  the  little  second  hand  of  life,  are  often  of 
more    consequence    than   deeds,  which    come    round 
seldom,  like  the  hour  hand.     And,  in  the  artificial  rela- 
tions of  cultivated  people,  actions  can  never  atone  for 
language. 


4}uof4tion0  15 


It  is  absurd  to  be  serious  about  trifling  matters. 

IT  WAS  a  sad  cynic  who  said  that  youth  passes  its 
time  in  wishing  that  it  could  —  and  age  in  regretting 
that  it  didn't.  But  it  is  true  that  all  through  the 
first  half  of  our  lives  we  are  thinking  what  we  will  do 
when  once  we  fairly  get  started,  and  we  go  on  pleasing 
ourselves  with  these  dreams  until,  all  of  a  sudden,  we 
wake  up  to  the  fact  that  we  have  begun  to  go  down 
the  hill,  and  that  now  the  time  to  hope  and  plan  is 
past,  and  the  time  to  remember  and  regret  has  come. 
We  often  hear  of  the  ironies  of  life.  The  saddest 
irony  is  its  brevity  —  our  days  are  but  a  span,  our  life 
but  "a  sleep  and  a  forgetting"  —  then,  above  all 
would  those  who  love  each  other  beware  that  they 
give  no  space  to  estrangement  or  fault-finding,  since 
our  life  of  so  few  days  is  all  too  brief  for  bitterness. 

He  who  can  entirely  forgive  an  injury  intentionally 
given,  is  either  a  simpleton  or  a  Christ. 

Men  live  better  in  the  past,  or  in  the  future,  than 
in  the  present. 

Half  the  unhappiness  of  this  life  springs  from  look- 
ing back  to  griefs  that  are  past,  and  forward  with  fear 
to  the  future. 


1  6 


Absence  strengthens  affection  when  the  last  recollec- 
tions are  kindly  —  the  reverse  —  deadens. 

It  is  not  absence  which  severs  friends,  but  changes 
in  mind  and  heart  and  position. 

Letters  addressed  to  my  heart  seem  to  me  too 
sacred  to  talk  about. 

We  love  not  always  whom  we  should,  or  would, 
were  choice  permitted  us. 

He  is  happy  whose  circumstances  suit  his  temper; 
but  he  is  more  happy  who  can  suit  his  temper  to  any 
circumstances. 

There  is  always  a  great  deal  lost  by  estrangement  ; 
one  can  not  come  back  to  the  same  old  spot. 

The  deepest  of  our  thoughts  and  emotions  are 
always  dumb. 

Alas  for  our  race,  that  we  lean  to  evil  rather  than 
to  good,  and  it  is  so  much  more  easy  and  piquant  to 
pitch  into  a  man  than  it  is  to  praise  him. 

He  had  a  way  of  saying  things 

That  made  one  think  of  courts  and  kings 

And  lords  and  ladies  of  high  degree. 


Quotation*  17 


Frank,  clear,  steady  eyes  whose  gaze  told  you  that 
their  owner  would  be  true  to  himself,  and  being  that, 
would  be  true  to  all  men  beside. 

It  is  so  hard  to  believe  that  deep,  clear  eyes  do  not 
mirror  deep,  pure  thoughts. 

How  much  better  to  suffer  wrong  than  to  do  wrong. 
How  wise,  how  noble  in  us  to  forgive  injuries  against 
ourselves.  How  foolish  to  lower  our  moral  sense  by 
attempting  to  avenge  them. 

He  who  can  take  advice  is  sometimes  superior  to 
him  who  can  give  it. 

We  are  never  so  happy  or  so  unhappy  as  we 
imagine. 

Work  like  a  man,  but  don't  be  worked  to  death  ; 
And  with  new  notions  —  let  me  change  the  rule  — 
Don't  strike  the  iron  till  it's  slightly  cool. 

If  you  will  do  anything  for  the  advantage  of  the 
world,  it  will  take  good  care  that  you  shall  not  do  it  a 
second  time. 

Sympathetic  people  are  often  uncommunicative 
about  themselves;  they  give  back  reflected  images 
which  hide  their  own  depths. 


i8 


BAD  temper  is  oftener  the   result  of  unhappy  cir- 
cumstances than  of  an  unhappy  organization.     It 
frequently,  however,   has   a  physical    cause.     A 
person  of  active  temperament,  sensitive  feelings  and 
eager  purpose,  is  more  likely  to  meet  with  constant 
jars  and  rubs  than  a  dull,  passive  one. 

Revenge  is  chiefly  a  function  of  memory,  and  with 
the  majority  of  mankind,  forgiveness  is  but  a  form  of 
forgetful  ness.  Be  very  chary,  therefore,  of  offending 
those  persons  who  possess  good  memories. 

People  do  not  half  live  who  live  only  in  one  place. 

Home  is  the  natural  center  of  the  world;  but  too 
much  staying  there  unfits  one  to  make  home  what  it 
should  be. 

Sweet  is  the  smile  of  home ;  the  mutual  look 
When  hearts  are  of  each  other  sure ; 

Sweet  all  the  joys  that  crowd  the  household  nook, 
The  haunt  of  all  affections  pure. 

Outside  fall  the  snowflakes  lightly; 

Thro'  the  night  loud  raves  the  storm ; 
In  my  room  the  heat  glows  brightly, 

And  'tis  cosy,  silent,  warm. 


4}uofafion0  19 


Where  is  the  fireside  that  does  not  feel  a  sensation 
of  deep  loneliness  when  the  "  gude  man's  awa'  ?  " 

Sometimes    the  sudden    sense    of    a  past,  forever 

gone,  comes  over  one  like  a  physical  sickness.     Sor- 

row's   crown    of  sorrow     is    remembering    happier 
days. 

Nothing  can  we  call  our  own  but  death. 

When  the  sun  is  suddenly  blotted  out  at  noon,  and 
the  world  turns  black,  we  grope  to  and  fro  aimlessly  ; 
but  after  a  while  we  accommodate  ourselves  to  the 
darkness. 

When  we  have  learned  to  live,  life's  purpose  is 
answered,  and  we  die. 

He  has  gone,  and  the  world  seems  like  a  watch 
with  the  mainspring  broken. 

He  died  in  harness  —  fell  in  the  traces  —  doing  his 
duty  as  long  as  he  could. 

Faithful  toiler,  thy  work  all  done, 
Beautiful  soul,  into  glory  gone; 
Virtuous  life,  with  the  crown  now  won, 
God  giveth  thee  rest. 


2O 


DEATH. 

I  want  to  tell  her  that  I  loved  her  well ; 

She  knew  it,  but  I  want  to  tell  her  so. 

Death  is  too  strong,  and  I  must  let  her  go, 
Unknowing  if,  where  happy  spirits  dwell, 
She  hears  my  cry  of  grief.     Within  her  shell, 

White  as  the  funeral  marble's  statue-snow 

She  lies,  whose  cheek  had  once  so  soft  a  glow, 
Her  dear  brown  eyes,  whose  meaning  none  could  tell 

Better  than  I,  are  closed  for  evermore. 

How  would  they  open  if  she  could  but  hear, 
And  look  upon  me  with  their  loving  light ! 

Too  weak  my  voice  to  reach  the  immortal  shore, 

Too  far  her  spirit  has  fled,  my  heart  to  cheer 
With  loving  sound  or  visionary  sight. 

ONE  of  the  most  remarkable  results  of  modern 
research  is  the  confirmation  of  the  accuracy  of 
the    historical    books  of  the  Old  Testament; 
the   marvelous   exactness  in  minute  details  which  are 
now  substantiated    by   recent    discoveries.     The    fact 
seems  to    be  that  when  writing  was  laboriously  per- 
formed  on    stone,  men    had   an  almost  superstitious 
conscientiousness    in   making   their  records  true,  and 
had    not   learned    the    modern    indifference    to    truth 
which    our   facile    modes  of  communicating   thought 


^\ 


have  encouraged.  A  statement  to  be  chiseled  on  rock 
must  be  correct  ;  a  statement  which  can  be  written  in 
five  minutes  is  likely  to  embody  only  first  impres- 
sions, which  may  be  amended  in  five  minutes  there- 
after. 

What  is  presentiment  ?  The  swaying  of  the  veil  of 
futurity  under  the  straining  hands  of  our  guardian 
angels?  Is  it  the  faint  shadow,  the  solemn  rustle  of 
their  hovering  wings,  as,  like  mother-birds,  they  spread 
protecting  plumes  between  blind  fledglings  and  de- 
scending ruin?  Will  theosophy  ever  explain  and 
augment  prescience  ? 

The  love  we  give  to  philosophy  never  reacts  with 
pain  upon  ourselves.  The  friend  on  whom  we  lavish 
our  affection  may  prove  ungrateful;  a  lover  may  be 
cruel;  an  unsympathetic  relative  may  repulse  our 
tenderness.  But  philosophy  is  kind,  soothing  and 
strengthening.  It  is  the  clear,  crystal  stream  at  which 
we  may  often  drink,  and  every  time  with  greater 
pleasure  as  well  as  with  greater  benefit  to  ourselves 
and  to  others. 

In  true  friendship  we  find  nothing  false  or  insin- 
cere ;  everything  is  straightforward,  and  springs  from 
the  heart. 


22 


4}uofdfton6 


True  friendship  is  like  sound  health.  The  value 
of  it  is  seldom  known  until  it  be  lost. 

There  are  no  rules  for  friendship.  It  must  be  left 
to  itself.  We  cannot  force  it  any  more  than  love. 

A  selfish  man  only  cultivates  those  whom  he  is 
sure  may  advance  him  in  some  way. 

Don't  be  "consistent,"  but  be  simply  true.  Weak 
persons  cannot  be  sincere. 

We  should  be  as  careful  to  keep  friends  as  to  make 
them.  Friendship  does  not  confer  any  privilege  to 
make  ourselves  disagreeable.  Some  people  never  seem 
to  appreciate  their  friends  till  they  have  lost  them. 

Friendship  is  not  a  gossamer  thread  to  be  severed 
by  the  stroke  of  a  pen. 

The  heart-strings  will  bear  rude  shocks  and  sudden 
rough  handling,  but  the  gradual  tightening,  the  unre- 
mitted  tension,  will  at  last  break  them. 

What  makes  us  like  new  acquaintances  is  not  so 
much  any  weariness  of  our  old  ones,  or  the  pleasure 
of  change,  as  disgust  at  not  being  sufficiently  admired 
by  those  who  know  us  too  well,  and  the  hope  of  being 
more  so  by  those  who  do  not  know  so  much  of  us. 


23 


YOU  make  an  acquaintance  which  a  kindly  time 
and  a  favorable  opportunity  ripen  quickly  into 
a  friendship.  But  your  lives  run  far  apart,  and 
there  is  no  fording  place,  no  point  of  junction,  and  no 
bridging  over  the  intervening  space  possible  for  either. 
You  meet,  but  you  must  part,  and  the  sorrow  of  the 
loss  is  as  great  as  the  joy  of  the  gain  has  been.  It  is 
rare,  you  think,  to  find  one  of  whom  you  feel  you 
could  make  a  real  true  endearing  friend.  And  now  to 
have  seen  your  pleasant  prize,  to  have  held  it  in  your 
hand  for  those  few  days,  and  to  have  to  lay  it  down 
again,  and  go  out  in  the  desert  of  your  loneliness  as 
before!  Is  not  that  a  pang?  Surely  yes;  quite  as 
sharp  in  its  way  as  others  of  which  more  account  is 
made. 

Sometimes  silence  is  power  ;  try  it. 

It  is  not  the  number  of  friends  that  give  us  pleas- 
ure, but  the  warmth  of  a  few. 

That  joy  so  great  that  tears  persist  in  coming. 

That  sadness  without  tears  —  bruising  the  heart  like 
a  hammer. 

When  we    have  done  our  best  we  may  await  the 
result  without  anxiety. 


24 


Extravagance  is  not  by  any  means  the  wilful  and 
determined  fault  some  of  its  censors  declare  it  to  be. 
People  drift  into  it  far  oftener  than  they  set  sail  pur- 
posely in  that  direction. 

Poverty  can  not  be  hidden,  try  as  one  may. 
Among  all  arts,  music  alone  can  be  purely  religious. 

Music  is  a  beautiful  magician,  and  few  can  resist  its 
power. 

Music  is  a  kind  of  inarticulate,  unfathomable  speech, 
which  leads  us  to  the  edge  of  the  infinite  and  lets  us 
for  moments  gaze  into  it. 

ROUGET  DE  LISLE  was  a  young  officer  of 
engineers  at  Strasbourg.  He  relieved  the  tedi- 
ousness  of  garrison  life  by  writing  verses  and 
indulging  a  love  for  music.  He  was  a  frequent  visitor 
at  the  house  of  Baron  de  Diedrich,  the  mayor  of 
Strasbourg.  The  family  loved  music,  and  the  ladies 
were  in  the  habit  of  assisting,  by  their  performances, 
the  early  conceptions  of  his  genius.  During  the  famine 
of  the  winter  1792,  one  day,  at  the  now  frugal  table, 
Diedrich  brought  out  his  last  bottle  of  Rhine  wine, 
saying,  "We  will  have  it  and  drink  to  liberty  and  the 
country,  and  De  Lisle  must  draw  from  these  last  drops 


Quotation*  25 


one  of  his  hymns  that  will  carry  his  own  ardent  feel- 
ings to  the  souls  of  the  people." 

The  young  officer  drank  till  the  bottle  was  empty, 
then  sought  his  lodgings,  entered  his  solitary  chamber, 
and  sought  for  inspiration  at  one  moment  in  the  pal- 
pitations of  his  citizen's  heart,  and  at  another  by 
touching,  as  an  artist,  the  keys  of  his  instrument,  and 
striking  out  alternately  portions  of  an  air  and  giving 
utterance  to  poetic  thoughts.  He  did  not  know 
which  came  first  ;  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  sepa- 
rate the  poetry  from  the  music,  or  the  sentiment  from 
the  words  in  which  it  was  clothed.  He  sang  alto- 
gether and  wrote  nothing.  In  this  state  of  lofty 
inspiration,  he  went  to  sleep,  with  his  head  upon  the 
instrument.  The  chants  of  the  night  came  upon  him 
in  the  morning  like  the  faint  impressions  of  a  dream. 
He  wrote  down  the  words,  made  the  notes  of  the 
music,  and  ran  to  Diedrich's.  They  called  together 
some  friends  who  were,  like  themselves,  passionately 
fond  of  music,  and  able  to  execute  the  compositions 
of  De  Lisle.  One  of  the  young  ladies  played,  and 
Rouget  sang. 

At  the  first  stanza,  the  countenances  of  the  com- 
pany grew  pale  ;  at  the  second,  tears  flowed  abun- 
dantly; at  the  last  a  delirium  of  enthusiasm  broke 
forth.  They  cast  themselves  into  each  other's  arms. 


26  gdp  J^jdjatb  Quotations 


The  hymn  of  the  nation  was  found  !  Alas  !  it  was 
destined  to  become  a  hymn  of  terror.  The  unhappy 
Diedrich,  a  few  months  afterwards,  marched  to  the 
scaffold  at  the  sound  of  the  notes  first  uttered  at  his 
hearth,  from  the  heart  of  his  friend  and  the  voice  of 
his  wife  —  "La  Marseillaise.7' 

Dr.  Johnson  had  no  love  of  music.  On  one  occa- 
sion, hearing  that  a  certain  piece  of  music  was  very 
difficult,  he  expressed  his  regret  that  it  was  not  impos- 
sible. 

Swans  sing  before  they  die  :  'twere  no  bad  thing 
did  certain  persons  die  before  they  sing. 

A  little  child,  hearing  the  sweet  song  of  a  bird  in 
the  garden,  asked  : 

"  What  makes  him  sing  so  sweetly,  mamma  ?  Do  he 
eat  flowers?" 

The  old  stone  effigies  lie  flat  on  their  backs,  or  lean 
comfortably  on  one  elbow;  but  in  the  more  modern 
monuments  the  statues  are  too  often  balanced  on  one 
leg,  or  stand  forever  in  some  pugnacious  attitude, 
which  tires  and  strains  the  eye  to  look  at.  When 
marble  and  repose  are  divorced,  it  wrongs  the  fitness 
of  things,  and  when  sculptors  learn  that  it  is  unnat- 
ural and  repulsive  to  be  always  straining  one's  muscles 


in  marble  "as  well  as  in  the  flesh,  there  will  be  a  new 
and  glad  sunrise  in  their  art. 

Epitaph  on  a  tombstone  in  an  old  English  church- 
yard: 

"She  was  —  but  words  are  wanting  to  say  what; 
Think  what  a  woman  should  be  —  she  was  that.7' 

Epitaph  on  a  tombstone  in  an  old  Maine  grave- 
yard: 

"  Beneath  this  stone  my  wife  doth  lie ; 
She  is  now  at  rest,  and  so  am  I." 

/i  LEXANDER  STEPHENS  was  so  thin  in  per- 
2~±  son,  he  was  constantly  the  source  of  remark. 
For  instance  :  "An  empty  carriage  drove  up  to 
the  hotel  and  Alexander  Stephens  alighted  from  it." 
Once,  on  a  train,  a  gentleman  removed  what  he 
thought  was  an  overcoat  from  the  back  of  a  seat,  and 
threw  it  upon  another.  Whereupon,  Stephens  rose  up 
in  it  and  accosted  him  with  indignation.  The  sun 
was  not  able  to  cast  his  shadow. 

A  man  remarked  for  his  particularly  easy-going 
manner  and  never  allowing  anything  to  disturb  his 
equanimity,  was  found  by  a  friend  on  the  most  inter- 
esting day  of  his  life  —  the  morning  of  his  marriage — 


throwing  crumbs  of  bread  to  the  ducks  in  a  pond  in 
the  park.  H;s  friend,  surprised  at  seeing  him  at  such 
a  time  and  so  engaged  within  two  hours  of  the  time 
appointed  for  his  marriage,  exclaimed,  "  What !  you 
here  to-day  ?  I  thought  you  were  going  to  be  married 
this  morning.'' 

"Yes/7  was  his  answer,  given  with  the  most  perfect 
nonchalance,  and  throwing  a  few  more  crumbs  to  the 
ducks,  without  moving  from  the  railing  on  which  he 
was  leaning,  "  yes,  I  believe  I  am." 

Dr.  Abernethy,  when  he  visited  his  rich  and  lux- 
urious patients,  always  went  into  their  kitchens  and 
shook  hands  with  their  cooks.  "  My  good  friends,'' 
said  he,  "  I  owe  you  much,  for  you  confer  great  favors 
upon  me.  Your  skill,  your  ingenious  and  palatable 
art  of  poisoning,  enables  us  medical  men  to  ride  in 
our  carriages.  Without  your  assistance  we  should 
all  go  on  foot  and  be  starved." 

"  My  poor  friend,"  said  a  physician  to  a  dying  pau- 
per, "don't  you  wish  to  go  to  that  great,  glorious 
heaven,  where  you  will  have  everything  you  could 
wish  for?" 

"  No,  sir ;  I  don't  want  to  go  anywhere  that  I  have 
to  die  first  to  get  there." 


29 


DOCTOR  AND  NEGRO. 

"There's  doctors  as  I  know  is  doctors,  but  you  are 
no  doctor  at  all." 

"  Look  at  my  diploma,  and  see  if  I  am  not  a  doc- 
tor." 

"Your  diploma,"  contemptuously,  "that  ain't  noth- 
ing. No  piece  of  paper  ever  made  a  doctor  yet." 

"Ask  my  patients,"  shouted  the  furious  physician. 

"Ask  your  patients!  oh,  Lord!"  —  then  in  slow, 
mournful  deliberation  —  "ask  your  patients!  Why, 
they  are  all  dead'' 

ONE  NEGRO'S  IDEA  OF  A  LAWYER. 

"  Lie-yers  live  by  talking ;  turning  of  words  upside 
down  and  wrong  side  outwards,  and  reading  words 
backwards,  and  whitewashing  black  things,  and  smut- 
ting of  white  ones.  Now  our  lie-yer,  he  is  a  powerful 
wrastler  with  justice.  They  do  say  down  yonder  at 
the  Court  House,  that  when  he  gets  done  with  a  wit- 
ness and  turns  him  aloose,  the  poor  creetur  is  so 
frustrated  in  his  mind  that  he  don't  know  his  own 
name,  or  when  he  was  born,  or  where  he  was  born,  or 
whether  he  ever  was  born  at  all." 

The  place  where  "every  dog  has  his  day"  must  be 
a  howling  wilderness. 


He  who  talks  only  of  himself  is  soon  left  without 
an  audience. 

WHAT  a  red  rag  is  to  a  bull,  Turner's  painting 
of  the  Slave  Ship  is  to  me.  It  threw  Mr. 
Ruskin  into  a  mad  ecstasy  of  pleasure  —  it 
threw  me  into  one  of  rage.  I  could  not  see  water  in 
that  glaring  yellow  mud,  and  natural  effects  in  those 
lurid  explosions  of  mixed  smoke  and  flames  and  crim- 
son sunset  glories,  of  floating  iron  cable  chains  and 
other  unfloatable  things.  The  most  of  the  picture  is 
a  manifest  impossibility  —  that  is  to  say,  a  lie  —  and 
only  rigid  cultivation  can  enable  a  man  to  find  truth 
in  a  lie.  A  Boston  newspaper  reporter  went  and  took 
a  look  at  the  Slave  Ship  floundering  about  in  that 
fierce  conflagration  of  reds  and  yellows,  and  said  it 
reminded  him  of  a  tortoise-shell  cat  having  a  fit  in  a 
platter  of  tomatoes.  I  thought  him  a  man  with  an 
unobstructed  eye.  Mr.  Ruskin  would  have  said, 
"  This  man  is  an  ass." 

Never  apologize  for  a  long  letter.     You  only  add 
to  its  length. 

AN  INTEREST  WITHOUT  LOVE. 

That   lingering   kind   of  interest  which  still    finds 
something  to  say  after  the  good-by  is  uttered. 


31 


I  was  never  less  alone  than  when  by  myself  —  but, 
I  am  persuaded  there  is  no  such  thing,  after  all,  as  a 
perfect  enjoyment  of  solitude,  for  the  more  delicious 
the  solitude,  the  more  one  wants  a  companion. 

HOT  WEATHER. 

"At  last  two  Fahrenheits  blew  up, 
And  killed  two  children  small, 
And  one  barometer  shot  dead 
A  tutor  with  its  ball" 

[Suggested  one  hot  July  day,  when  the  thermometer  over  my 
writing-desk  ran  up  to  ninety-four  degrees  and 


A  WO  MAN  writer  entreats  the  poor  of  her  sex,  if 
ambitious,  to  become  sculptors,  painters,  wri- 
ters, teachers  in  schools  or  families;  or  else  to 
remain  mantua  makers,  milliners,  spinners,  dairymaids  ; 
but  on  the  peril  of  all  womanhood  not  to  meddle  with 
scalpel  or  red  tape,  and  to  shun  rostra  of  all  descrip- 
tions. To  married  women  who  thirsted  for  a  draught 
of  the  turbid  waters  of  politics,  she  writes:  "If  you 
really  desire  to  serve  the  government  under  which 
you  live,  recollect  that  it  was  neither  the  speeches 
thundered  from  the  Forum,  nor  the  prayers  of  priests, 
nor  the  iron  tramp  of  legions,  but  the  ever-triumphant, 
maternal  influence,  the  potent,  the  pleading  £  My  son  !  ' 


32 


of  Volumnia,  the  mother  of  Coriolanus,  that  saved 
Rome/'  To  discontented  spinsters  who  traveled  over 
the  land,  haranguing  audiences  that  secretly  laughed 
at  and  despised  them,  to  these  unfortunate  women, 
clamoring  for  power  and  influence  in  the  national 
councils,  she  points  out  that  quiet,  happy  home,  whence 
immortal  Hannah  More  sent  forth  those  writings 
which  did  more  to  tranquilize  England  and  bar  the 
heart  of  yeomanry  against  the  temptations  of  red 
republicanism  than  all  the  eloquence  of  Burke  and  the 
cautious  measures  of  Parliament. 

Good-by  to  Pain  and  Care!  I  take 

Mine  ease  to-day; 

Here,  where  these  sunny  waters  break, 
And  ripples  this  cool  breeze,  I  shake 

All  burdens  from  the  heart,  all  weary  thoughts  away. 


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